


Of Swanky Shindigs and Lemon Pies

by Medie



Series: Saltwater Soldier [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M, Newfie!Bucky, Newfoundland
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-09
Updated: 2015-09-09
Packaged: 2018-04-19 21:09:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4761077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medie/pseuds/Medie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a party, Bucky wears a suit, the media is in attendance. Do you REALLY think the folks back in Newfoundland were going to let that slide?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Swanky Shindigs and Lemon Pies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tygermama](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tygermama/gifts).



> Written for this prompt from dearest Tygermama "omg, what if Bucky has to wear a tux for some shindig and there's pics on tv and the next day his phone is full of texts and messages from Ed and Marjorie and Annie taking the piss about how well he cleans up and how pretty he looked?"
> 
> Which was inspired by [this gifset](http://medieisme.tumblr.com/post/127281719622). I must caution you, folks, there's Sebastian Stan in a tuxedo. Deep breath before viewing. (also lip biting. *swoon*)

He doesn’t even know what it’s for, really. If you asked Bucky what had him in the monkey suit at the White House, watching Steve glad-hand with a bunch of politicians he couldn’t even have told you why. He vaguely remembered Steve saying something about a charity shindig that he couldn’t say no to because ‘it’s for kids, Buck’, but other than that?

Eh, it’s for kids. He’s good with that. He stopped listening around then and went to put on the suit. It’s not that bad. Stark left plenty of room for his arm and his extra weapons (because Bucky trusts no one and nowhere unless he’s got a surprise or two tucked away somewhere) and he doesn’t even think about anything else.

At least, not until he’s got a flute of champagne in his hand and his phone starts buzzing in his pocket.

Bucky mutters a curse, low and cheerfully vicious, the way that would’ve had Steve’s ma laughing even as she boxed his ears, because he just *knows* who it is. Knows without looking and knows he’s in for the kind of hell that’ll have Stevie laughing for days. “Should’ve seen this one coming,” he says, then finishes his champagne. Ed and Marjorie aren’t fans of late night, but it’s not that late in Toronto and she just might be getting off work about now.

He fishes his phone out of his pocket and, yup, right there on the screen is Annie’s name and a goddamn winky smiley face.

“Take this,you look like you could use it,” Tony says, taking the champagne flute out of his hand, replacing it with a tumbler of something amber. “It’s not the good stuff you prefer, but apparently the bar’s never heard of Screech. Go figure. Thor and the Asgadian Ace of Base are about two seconds from lodging some kind of formal protest with the Chief of Staff.”

Bucky snorts a laugh into his glass. “Should be entertaining.”

“Not as much as whatever put that look on your face,” Tony wheedles. “Interesting news from home?”

That gets a grimace as Bucky says, “Not yet.”

It’s not that he goes through the rest of the night like a condemned man or anything. It’s not. He laughs at Tony’s terrible jokes, keeps Bruce company on one of the balconies for a while, swaps bad Russian jokes with Nat while she and Clint circle him and Steve while they all try not to embarrass themselves dancing, and generally has a pretty good time.

Except, fuck, he is absolutely a condemned man and he damn well knows it. Sure, from the second he saw Steve in *his* monkey suit, he knew he was going to take his boy home and fuck him into another universe. There was never any doubt of that one, but maybe he does it with just a little more vim and vigor than usual.

For those folks wondering? Stevie’s got no complaints on the matter.

They sleep late.

Well, they plan to, but his cellphone starts up about five thirty and just does not stop.

“Whassat?” Steve mumbles into Bucky’s shoulder blade.“Izzattony?”

Bucky smirks into his pillow because a fucked stupid Steve is damn adorable. “No, it’s home. Annie saw us on the late night news.” He glances at his phone and the time. “Yeah, about the time Marjorie has her morning tea and reads her email.”

Silence for a second, then Steve snickers into his skin. “S'gonna be fun.”

“Yeah, for you maybe, for me–” Bucky shakes his head. It’ll still be fun. It’s kind of nice having family again. Like having Steve’s ma and his folks back. He pulls the pillow closer, bunches it up under his chin, and thumbs the screen of his phone.

First message is a shaky picture of him on the CBC News. Annie. ‘You know the blue-haired brigade back home’s going to wild over you and your young man in your suits, right?’

Next one’s also Annie, 'Not sure all of them get he’s your young man, but we’re working on that’.

Ed’s not much a fan of cellphones and Marjorie manages their Facebook, which Bucky hasn’t seen but Tony tells him about on the regular (because they’re *friends* and Majorie knits stuff for his bots), so he’s not surprised there’s a voice mail waiting for him.

He sucks in a breath, elbows Steve because the bastard is still laughing, and plays the thing.

“My son, my son, you’re in for it now. Just as well you bring the suit with you when you come home next time. Phone’s damn near rung off the hook all morning and Majorie’s on her third cup of tea. I swear it seems like the whole damn town is talking about how well you two clean up.” Ed chuckles. “Think it finally dawned on the works of them that that nice Bucky boy of ours is an Avenger.” Bucky’s not ready for the way that quiet pride settles in his chest. Steve’s lips press into his shoulder, but he doesn’t say anything. Neither of them do.

“Speaking of coming home; you two are expected for next Sunday dinner. Best tell those Hydra fellers you’re taking the day off or it’ll be Majorie they deal with because she got a roast of moose off a nephew and there’ll be hell to pay if you two miss it.”

Bucky’s stomach rumbles just at the thought. It’s almost enough to distract him from the image of Marjorie and her skillet putting the fear of God and all His angels into Hydra.

“Bucky, my darling,” Marjorie’s voice breaks into the message then and she adds, “he’s right about that one. Lois and the girls are just *gone* on how sweet you look with your hair all slicked back like that. Reminded her of her George and his Brylcreem.”

“Didn’t you used to use that stuff?” Steve mumbles as Marjorie goes on, repeating Ed’s admonition not to miss dinner on Sunday and there’d be blueberry grunt and lemon meringue for them both if they made it.

“Shut up, Stevie, Majorie’s talking *pie*.” If Hydra gets between him and Majorie’s pie (or her blueberry grunt) he’ll put down every damn one of the bastards he can find. Hell, he offers Thor a piece or two and things’ll get real damn interesting real damn fast.

Yeah, he likes that plan.

His phone goes off while he’s thinking it over. Another text from Annie.

Bucky throws his phone across the room.

The next time there’s a party, there had better be a goddamn apocalypse.


End file.
